Hermione's Story
by Padfoot Princess
Summary: A three-part fic, with Hermione's Story, Harry's Story, and Happily Ever After. The latter to be posted soon. H/H fluff. Please read! Mwah! Love from the Padfoot Princess!


Hermione couldn't believe she had done such a thing to herself. How stupid she had been! She left Harry, whom she loved most in the entire world. She felt like she was suffocating when she wasn't near him. Yet she had just let him go. And now she was alone, utterly alone. She knew she could get him back-couldn't she? Did he still love her, even though she had blamed him for something he didn't do? Could he take her back and make her life worth living once again? She could only hope, and will, for that to happen. Or had she killed him? Smothered him by immediately putting him on the spot-when he was innocent? She wept freely; brooding over the things the two of them had done together.

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You look in my eyes

And I get emotional inside

I know it's crazy

But you can still touch my heart

Still crying in self-pity, she thought of all the wonderful things he had done for her. There had been one day, when she had been really downhearted, really upset over some events that had occurred around than. She huddled in her dormitory on her bed, not wanting to be near anyone. Her face hidden under a pillow and her curtains draped shut, she heard a creaking of the heavy door to the room opening and closing. She leapt up. "Hello?" She called tentatively. There came no reply. She crept out of bed, ready to attack. The attacker was-a bouquet of roses, and a note. She picked them up and smelled them, then read the note as well.

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And after all this time

You'd think that I

I wouldn't feel the same

But time melts into nothing

It was from Harry-no prizes to those of you who guessed that already. The note was short, and simple. **Hermione**, it read. **Heard you were having a bad day. Hope this cheers you up. Love, Harry.** Hermione had put the flowers in a vase and secured the note in a safe place before running out to find him. She found him almost instantly, in the common room. He got up to greet her with a hug and a kiss, which, if the roses hadn't already done it, cheered her up magnificently. There was nothing she wanted more than to just stay in his gentle grip, to be held by the one she loved. She was-for a while, anyway. Harry rocked her gently, easing the pain and putting Hermione into a trance. She loved him so much than.

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And nothing's changed

I still believe, someday you and me

Will find ourselves in love again

I had a dream, someday you and me

She corrected herself. She had always loved him, from the bottom of her heart-whether she was conscious of that feeling or not. She sobered, and her mind presented her with another memory. Hermione had been sitting by herself in the Gryffindor Common Room when a pair of hands placed themselves over her eyes. She knew by the way she shivered that it was Harry. He crooned in her ear, "Shhh." And she obeyed. He placed a blindfold over her eyes, not too tightly, and lifted her up into his warm hold. She wasn't sure of how long he carried her, but after a short duration, he stopped. He slid her easily onto the ground so that she had time to collect herself and land on her feet without falling. 

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Will find ourselves in love again

Each day of my life

I'm filled with all the joy I could find

You know that I am not the desperate type

He grabbed her hand, opened a door (presumably, that was just the noise Hermione heard and decided that he was opening the door) shut it again, and lifted off the handkerchief. She gasped. The classroom-for it was an empty classroom he had taken her to-was decorated beautifully. Black drapes covered the walls, shimmering with diamond shaped dots. It resembled being up in the sky at night, with only blackness and stars as scenery. In the center of the room was a table, seated for two. A candle burned in the middle, and Hermione heard soft, romantic music playing from somewhere. She sucked in her breath-it was so unbelievable!

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If there's one spark of hope left in my grasp

I'll hold it with both hands

It's worth the risk of burning to have a second chance

No, no, no, no, no, no, I need you baby

Harry reached forward and pulled out Hermione's seat for her. She sat down, and Harry poured her a drink in a wineglass from some unseen source. He served her dinner as well, and they ate and talked for what seemed like hours. At the end of their meal, Harry held out a hand to her. She took it, and while the music provided a rhythm for them, they danced. 

Harry dipped her, and whirled her. He was a very talented dancer, she found, though she couldn't be sure if that was just magic making him that way. Either way, she had a brilliant time. Harry carried her again, this time to her bed, and kissed her goodnight. A smile stayed on her lips the whole night, as though the dinner could be preserved in her dreams forever. 

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I still believe that we can be together

If we believe that true love never has to end

Than we must know that will love again

I still believe, someday you and me

Hermione was agonized by the fact that she had left Harry. Because she had seen him-the memory was grueling, but she made herself bring it about-kissing another girl. Some sixth year. She later found out that he had just been lying on the couch when she had came up and started kissing him. Talk about desperate! This girl couldn't even get a man; she had to pick one off the streets (or couch, depending) and make out with him. So Hermione had concluded he wasn't loyal. To her knowledge, he still was. Why, oh why, couldn't she have realized she was making a mistake? Harry was the best thing in her life, not to mention the only thing that made her truly happy, right down to her very soul. Harry…Hermione...

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Will find ourselves in love again

I had a dream, someday you and me

Will find ourselves in love again

She knew what she had to do to get her beloved back. Knew it, but daren't do it. Her pride kept her from being reunited with Harry and she was ashamed. She missed him terribly, his kisses and his touch. His voice, the way he constantly knew exactly what she wanted him to do. His way of being romantically spontaneous. Dancing with her under the stars, showering her with flowers, holding candlelight dinners just for her. He was perfect for her, was she good enough to be with him? Would he take her back, and make all her wishes and dreams come true? How could she possibly live happily ever after without him? Princesses didn't ride on their own white horses into the sunset. Prince Charming had to be there, too.


End file.
